


Hurts like Hell

by spellitwithyourpeas



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post Punisher Season 2, Punisher season 2 spoilers, Smut, at least they're angsty together, karen sets things straight, mentions of daredevil season 3, there's a lot of angst ....but you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellitwithyourpeas/pseuds/spellitwithyourpeas
Summary: Karen didn’t get a chance to tell him that she understood some part of his grief. She had lost too. She ached to share with him about Fisk, Father Lanthom’s sacrifice, and the weight of guilt from the deaths at the Bulletin.He knew she wasn’t a stranger to horror, but he didn’t know how death had followed her out of Vermont.





	1. I loved and, I loved, and I lost you

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by Fleurie

 

 

> _**Dreams fight with machines** _  
>  _**Inside my head like adversaries** _  
>  _**Come wrestle me free** _  
>  _**Clean from the war** _  
>  _**Your heart fits like a key** _  
>  _**Into the lock on the wall** _

Hurts Like Hell- Fleurie

“The Punisher strikes again…”

 It was once again a familiar utterance heard around the city on the news and radio. His body count were the paper’s headlines. Even in their large, dark print the number started to lose it's impact. Desensitization was a thing around this city, especially since aliens fell out of the sky.

Karen listened for as long as she could-in the end all the stories started to sound the same. Gang wars and feuds end in blood shed. Sex Trafficker castrated and left on police station doorstep. Drug cartel taken down. The list went on. 

The police never caught him. He became a deadlier nuisance than Daredevil had ever been. Even worse than his first run at being The Punisher. There were a few near misses and she’d be lying if said she didn’t listen to those stories fully.

 Everyone knew that most nights out of the week the boogeyman wandered the streets of the city, hidden in the shadows, stalking his prey. People said they felt safer with him on the street, well women did. The men, not so much.

After the argument in his hospital room a few  weeks ago, Karen Page proceeded the way she always did-by throwing herself into work and hoping it would distract her from the hurt.There was a sense of finality in his tone that day, but then again there always was. She shook her head slowly in disbelief.  

Karen didn’t get a chance to tell him that she understood some part of his grief. She had lost too. She ached to share with him about Fisk, Father Lanthom’s sacrifice, and the weight of the guilt from the deaths at the Bulletin. She had wanted to tell him about Kevin since the day she met him. 

He knew she wasn’t a stranger to horror, but he didn’t know how death had followed her out of Vermont.

She wanted to scream at him when he mentioned Matt. To tell him to stop using his bullshit lines to try and change her mind, but she never got the chance. He slipped through her fingers more swiftly than the last time and it left her feeling hollow.

After she pulled the fire alarm, she took a cab back to the firm, made up a story about how she had to trash her shoes, and got back to work. She didn’t tell Matt or Foggy about her visit.

She still had nightmares, Bullseye replaced Fisk and she could never out run him. Nobody around her in the dream survived either.

Survivors guilt was an ugly thing. It had made a home in her after her brother died, but it had resurfaced after the events of the past year. She woke up crying some nights, other times she woke with up reeling from a punch that never landed. The only trace of the stress was the perpetual dark circles under her eyes and jumpiness now and then. 

It was a cold day in February when she contacted Dinah. She sat curled up on her couch with a glass of red wine in her hand, the phone in the other.

The two had developed a friendship after Russo died. It was easy and it felt nice to have something easy in her life. Karen celebrated with her when Dinah got the job at the CIA. That night at the bar she slid a small piece of paper across the sticky bar in Karen's direction.

Dinah flashed a small smile as she took a sip of her whisky, “ _You should feel flattered. I can count the number of people who have my direct line on one hand.”_

Karen’s eyes widened, _“Wow, I do. Definitely.”_

_“It’ll be nice to have a friend to talk to-even if we are thousands of miles away from each other...and everything I'll be doing is classified."_

" _I'll fill you in on the Bachelor, how about that?"_

_"That sounds perfect."_

Karen let out a slow exhale as the phone rang.

 “Madani.”

 “Dinah it’s Karen, I have a favor to ask.”

 “Shoot.”

 “Can you send me Frank’s number? Whichever one he’s using nowadays.”

 There was a pause, “Is something wrong Karen?”

 “No, no, not like that. I just-“she glanced down at her bare feet and rubbed her temple, “I just have things I didn’t get a chance to say to him the last time I saw him.”

 Dinah hummed, “I understand. Let me get back to you with that. Shouldn’t take long.”

 It didn’t take long at all, a half an hour later Karen’s phone buzzed with a text message. Karen stared at the number for a moment before sinking back into the couch. She cleared her throat while the phone rang.

 The line picked up, but no words were spoken.

 “Frank?”

 “Karen.”

 She heard him sigh and she closed her eyes, picturing him.

 “Frank, can we meet?”

 “Are you in trouble?” His voice was hard and unwavering.

 “No, I just-wanted to talk in person.”

 “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 “Frank- I got the message that day. I’m not going to try to change your mind. I know you’re-,” she struggled to find the right word, “committed to this fight, but I miss you,” She swallowed and squeezed the phone a little bit tighter, “I miss my friend.”

 He let out a slow exhale and she wondered if the tense expression he usually wore had softened at all.

 “Where?”

 “The park by the pier?”

“Tomorrow? Say…9:30?” His voice was gruff, low. She missed that sound.

 “Sure. That sounds good.” She smiled, “Thank you Frank.”

 “I’ll see you then.”

 The line disconnected and Karen nodded to herself. She tidied up from her dinner and took a long, hot shower that night. She stepped out of the tub with her lavender colored bath towel wrapped around her. She wiped away the steam on the mirror and stared at her reflection. 

 She hated how much she still wanted him. How much she loved him. She felt that longing to have him present in her life-when she’s not being shot at or he’s not chained to a hospital bed- and that longing left her feeling like she'd been holding her breath for too long. Suffocating slowly. 

 She loved him and he loved her, but they couldn’t be together, and she doubted that kind of heartbreak could be fixed. She doubted that she would ever find love like this again.

 The gaze that stared back at her in the mirror looked sad, like some of the brightness that once was there had dimmed.

 Karen forced herself to smile a small smile.

 Her life hadn’t been easy and she had suffered her own tragedies, growing into that space that suffering created. The hole inside her that first started to be dug after her mother passed. After that, it had only deepened into this empty space. Drugs and alcohol made it all feel a little less lonely, but it was still a dark and vast space that scared her.

She was a survivor though and with each trauma she felt that fear fade a little bit.

 She stared at the ceiling for what felt like an hour, willing the universe for some miracle. For a chance of an after that they had once talked about. Eventually her eyes drifted and her breathing slowed. Karen fell asleep dreaming of ginger snaps, space ships, and little dinosaur toys.


	2. I know that I can survive

 

 

> _**"If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?"** _
> 
> _Margaret Atwood_

Karen woke up slowly, sleep still clinging to her- drawing her back into an elusive world of memories and twisted reality.  It was eight in the morning. She rose slowly and stretched. Her stomach fluttered as her nerves settled in.

She shouldn’t be nervous. She’s known Frank for quite a while now, they’ve been through hell and back.  They were honest with each other. They had no time for bullshit at the start of their friendship and Karen didn’t want there to be any now.

That’s all she wanted really, a chance to be honest. Ultimately, she had asked him to take a chance on her, to let the Punisher go, and he’d refused. She wouldn’t back down from her word, she wasn’t going to try and change his mind. She just wanted to present another option.

 Frank was a man whose life bled into a black and white world. His blood seeping into different shades of gray. His motives were pure, his actions were immoral. Karen understood this. She wasn’t naïve.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way into the kitchen to start the coffee maker, knowing full well she’d stop for a second cup on the way to the park.

It was a cool, overcast day and she dressed in jeans, a thick sweater, and boots. She left her hair down.

Karen brushed a stray lock behind her ear and took a sip of her coffee. Phone in one hand and the coffee in the other, she was hunched forward at the kitchen table as she scrolled through the news. The big story of the day was Senator Schultz coming out as gay. She glanced at her watch and decided to leave a little early.  Grabbing her black coat, she flipped off the switch and did one last once over of her apartment, her gaze lingering on the windowsill. A small smile graced her lips and she shut the door.

 On the windowsill were dried white roses, or at least they had been white. Now they were faded and withered. Too delicate to move or else the petals would crumble.

 

* * *

 

Karen walked to the park, hands deep in her pockets as the breeze picked up. She passed by the coffee stand and picked up two medium coffees.

“Cream or sugar?”

“Just black, thanks.”

 When she made it to the park there was a lone figure sitting on the bench overlooking the water. She shook her head and approached. His gaze remained fixed forward. He knew she was there.

He was giving her time.

Her steps wavered as she got closer and she swallowed hard, remembering that she was the one who called him.

“You beat me.”

He straightened and gave her a once over as she sat down next to him. She wondered what he saw. The man before her was free of bruises. Well, ones that she could see at least.

She continued, “Not that I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, never going to break that habit.”

The gravel nature of his voice was calming and Karen smiled as she passed him the coffee.

“How’d you know?” He flashed a small grin and took a sip.

 She shrugged, staring out at the pier, “I know you Frank.”

 “Yeah,” Frank glanced down at his boots and took another sip, “yeah I guess you do.”  He cleared his throat and leaned back into the bench. His knee bounced slightly, pent up energy next to her still, crossed legs.

 “So, how’d you get my number anyway?”

 “Madani.”

 He chuckled, “Ah, shouldn’t be surprised. You two friends now?” There was a lightness to his tone. He was waiting patiently. Waiting for her to start.

 “Yeah, yeah we are.”

 “She tell you she offered me a job?” the question lingered for a moment before Karen nodded slowly.

 “She did. Told me you said that you already had one.”

 He stiffened, “It’s the truth.”

“I know.” Karen’s voice was soft as she turned slightly to face him, her boot brushing his leg. “That’s not why I’m here Frank. I’m not going to try to convince you to change or stop. I just-,” She paused glancing up and sighing.

"I don’t want to lose you.”

He shifted his weight and glanced up at her.

She took a shaky breath and continued, “Every time we see each other it’s like we’re at this cross road, passing each other by and there's never enough time to-." 

Frank shook his head, his brows scrunched together. 

“What do you want from me Karen? Weekly coffee dates? Brunch on Sundays.” His voice was harsh, but she refused to flinch.

“That’s not what I’m asking fo-,”

He leaned forward, forcing her to meet his gaze,“No? Because I can’t give you that. I told you, this story doesn't have a happy ending.”

Karen couldn’t help but raise her voice to match his, “Yeah, well maybe because you don’t want one," This time it was him who flinched, "Have you tried?”

He quieted before he started talking.

“Look. I did try,”

Karen shook her head.

“Hey- I did. And you know what happened when I tried?" He barked, "Beth was shot, ok. She got shot because of me and she,” his voice faded, and he glanced away from Karen. 

Karen took a shaky breath. 

“This lady, she had a son. Because of me that boy almost lost his mother. So yeah, I tried and for those days it was easy, but you know what Karen, I don’t get easy. You know what I realized," Karen met his gaze, his gruff voice sounded hollow, "this life, this shit... follows me. This is me. So let me do what I need to do.”

She hadn't known where he was while he was away. Deep down she'd always hoped that he would move on from this life, she just hoped that it would have been with her.

That cut stung. One she knew he never meant to inflict.

Karen nodded, "Ok."

"I can't let this go."

She set her coffee down and leaned in, "Ok, but you're still human Frank. You're not souless-,"

He scoffed, "You sure?"

 "Yes."

Frank's expression turned dark at the change in her tone. There was a certainty to it.

"Yes, I'm sure. People like Fisk, people like Billy? Those are the monsters in this world. Not you."

Frank’s eyes widened and Karen turned, letting her hair hide her tears. He knew though, he could hear it in her voice.

“Hey.”

She stared at the waves, chopping up against each other and her breathing slowed. 

“Karen look at me.”

When she did, Frank took her hand, “I can’t lose you too. Ok? I can’t see you hurt. Pain-that's all I'll bring you."

"That's not true and you know it," she whispered.

Frank hung his head and let out a frustrated exhale before he looked back up to see her piercing blue eyes staring back at him. Karen brushed her thumb over his clasped  hands, feeling their roughness. They were the hands of a killer and they were soaked in blood. She felt hers were scarred red as well.

"You deserve more. Someone who can give you what I can’t.”

At that she removed her hand abruptly from his, her tone growing cold “You know Frank, I’m getting really tired of people telling me what I deserve.”

Frank narrowed his eyes,“You need to be with someone good. Be with Murdock. Forget about me and be happy.”

Anger seeped in and she snarled at him, “You don't know what the fuck I need and you need to stop bringing his goddamn name up in every conversation. You barely know Matt. He's held me on a pedestal since the day I met him and when he found out about what I'd done...” Karen shook her head, “you should have seen his face when he realized I wasn’t who he thought I was.”

Frank opened his mouth to speak, but saw her hands tremble as she wiped away tear. Her cheeks were flushed with anger.

“I may look like I have my shit together Frank, but there were too many years where I didn’t. You think you’re the only one with nightmares? That Amy was the only one who had bad people after her?”

His brow furrowed and he sat a little straighter, “Karen…”

“I’m not done yet," She said sharply and he stayed silent.

"Too many people have died because of me, because they were trying to protect me or got caught in the cross fire.  You think death and chaos only follow you? Death and violence haven’t left me alone since I left Vermont. Since my bro-,” her voice hitched as the sob welled up inside her. She took a breath.

Karen glanced up at Frank, afraid at what she’d find, but she saw a quiet understanding.

“My brother died because of me. My father wants nothing to do with me and my mother is dead. I killed Fisk’s right-hand man and Fisk came after me for it.  A priest took a knife in the chest that was meant for me and people at the Bulletin died because of my past mistakes."

Karen smiled sadly at Frank, “Point is Frank, I’m not innocent. I’m asking you to let me stay. Don’t abandon this because you’re afraid.”

Frank clenched his jaw and his trigger finger tapped wildly, “All of that never should have happened, but it’s still not safe, Karen.”

She laughed and he looked up in surprise.

“Frank,it never will be. It never has been!This past year happened and you know what factor wasn't involved? You.”

He sighed in defeat and she stilled.

“Unless.” Karen cleared her throat, “Unless I just blew everything way out of proportion because I mean something different to you, than you do to me." 

Frank turned back to her and a quiet whisper escaped, “Don’t.”

“Don’t do that, Karen.” He swallowed and, in his eyes, Karen saw a haunted look, “You are the only good thing in my world and in another life we’d-,” he stopped abruptly, the words too difficult to say.

“Let’s just have what we can have in this life Frank,” Karen's voice was weary, “I’m tired of the goodbyes.”

"Karen..." He started to argue.

"Frank, I'll be ok."

"You don't know that."

"I don't, but I've made it this far."

"What if-what if I can't protect you?" Scattered memories flashed through his mind. Images of his family in the park. Karen in the cafe, the sound of impending fire as he stood in her apartment, the road in the woods covered in glass, the gun pointing at her as she was held hostage. Now, now there was more. More violence. He wasn't there to stop it, he hadn't been there, he hadn't-

"Frank look at me."

Karen brushed his lips with her thumb and she took a deep breath. The panic slowly fading from his eyes.

"Then we'll deal with it if that day comes. You can't carry every burden Frank." His pulse danced under her fingertips. "Do what you have to. Just let me stay. Please."

He cradled her hand that was pressed against his cheek, turning, he pressed a soft kiss to her palm, "Ok."

* * *

 They sat in silence together, listening the sound of the waves breaking. In this moment it felt like they were the only two people in the city. The cacophony of the city was an echo, fading into nothingness. Eventually it was time to walk away. She stood first and hugged Frank tightly.

 He returned the embrace.

 “Call me every now and then ok?” Karen whispered as she leaned into him. Frank closed his eyes briefly. Memorizing this-her. Him. The feeling of her body pressed against his and the knowledge that she loved him. Knowing that she would never make him say those words out loud.

 She released him, smiling softly-waiting for his answer.

 “I will." She nodded and smiled before she turned to go, "Hey Karen?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” Karen looked at him with confusion, “If I had known, about Fisk, about everything…I would have” his voice dropped off.

She shook her head, “I know Frank,” the words didn't need to be said, they both know what he would’ve done, “there’s nothing to be sorry for and there's no one left to kill.”

Frank nodded, “I’ll call. Promise.” Karen nodded and smiled. This time she did walk away and it didn’t hurt so much this time.

Frank’s heart softened.

Hers bloomed.


	3. The old familiar sting

 

> _**Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.** _

_John 15:13_

The Friday night that he called found Karen in her usual spot on Friday nights, sitting at the sixth bar stool in at Josie’s with Matt and Foggy on either side. Foggy was showing them old college photos he had found of Matt and him while Matt told the stories that each photo captured a moment of. She was snorting with laughter over a Jack and coke.

Karen was still laughing when her phone rang. It was an unknown number and she didn’t have to guess who it was. She walked quickly to the door outside waving her phone at Foggy when he called out to her.

She stepped outside into the cold night and she was breathless when she answered the phone.

“Frank?”

“Karen”

His voice sounded strained, like he was in pain. Karen froze.

“You're hurt, where are you?”

He listed off the address and a key code as Karen frantically pulled a pen and pad of paper out of her purse and wrote down his address.

“I’ll be there soon.”

The line disconnected and Karen hoped that he hadn’t passed out and dropped the phone. She was typing the address into Google when she heard the door to the bar open and Matt call her name.

“Karen? Is everything ok?”

She turned to him wide eyed, her heart must be racing. Karen assumed he heard everything-stepping outside hadn’t done shit against his hearing.

“Matt, I have to go.” She wasn’t in the mood for an argument, not with Frank possibly bleeding out.

“I know. If you need help, call me. If it’s bad, we can take him to Maggie and go from there.” There was concern in his voice, but also compassion. Karen felt like crying.

“Thank you, Matt, I’ll let you know.”

He nodded and she jogged to her parked car across the street. She was 17 minutes away. 17 minutes. A lot could happen in that time. Karen tried not to imagine the worst possibility, instead replaying all the shit he’d been through. Torture, shot to pieces, broken bones…

Frank Castle seemed invincible and Karen prayed that tonight wasn’t the night she learned he wasn’t.

At every stoplight her fingers tapped anxiously against the steering wheel of Ben’s car. She pulled up to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

She closed the car door and approached the entrance, one hand gripping the .380 in her purse. Karen typed in the code and the door opened with a buzz. There was one flickering light in the hallway that lead upstairs. At the top the door opened up to an office overlooking the warehouse below.

Inside was a cot, a table littered with magazines and half assembled firearms. There slumped on the floor by the cot was Frank. The flip phone still open in his hand. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was shallow.

“Frank!”

She ran to him and knelt beside him, “Frank, c’mon-you gotta wake up for me.” His Kevlar vest was strewn across the floor beside him, the white skull was now mostly red. His shirt was cut and there were three bullet holes in his abdomen. It looked like he had started bandaging them before he passed out, but the pressure dressing was already soaking through.

Karen grabbed the gloves out of the first aid kit that was in disarray on the floor next to him. She grabbed more gauze and pressed hard against one of the wounds. With one hand on the gauze she added a second layer to the dressing.

His eyes flickered open and she breathed a sigh of relief as she moved onto the next dressing.

“There’s two more in my back that I couldn’t reach.”

Frank looked pale and Karen’s hands shook as grabbed the trauma shears to cut the rest of his shirt off. He leaned forward with a pained groan.

“Goddamnit Frank.”

There was so much blood. She grabbed more gauze and pushed down hard.

“Yeah, it was a rough night.” He muttered weakly.

“Frank I can’t do this alone. I can’t- there’s so much blood.”

Karen hated hearing the tremor in her voice, it was a reminder of the stakes at hand.

“No hospitals.”

“I know, I know-but you’re losing too much blood, you need fluids-you need…”

He slumped forward into her, passing out. Karen shucked off one of the gloves and pulled out her phone, muttering an angry “Fuck you Frank Castle” as she found Matt’s number.

The phone rang for but a moment before he answered.

“Karen?”

“Matt, I need your help” She told him the address and nodded when he told her he’d be there soon.

While she waited, she worked on holding pressure praying to a God she no longer believed in. It was not a pretty sight when Karen and Matt took a shoulder each and got Frank to the car. The stairs down were particularly challenging.

They laid him down in the backseat, Karen would worry about the blood stains later, and drove to Clinton Church. Karen grit her teeth the whole way, too frequently she looked in the rear view mirror at his bulking form.

“He looks like shit Karen and his heartbeat is thready, but it's regular. He’s been through worse.”

Matt said after ignoring her own erratic heartbeat for as long as he could. Karen nodded, holding back tears. Her grip on the steering wheel tight.

“Thank you, Matt. I know this isn’t…I know he’s not…” She struggled to find the words. Her brain a mess of horrible outcomes.

“You love him, right Karen?”

There was no anger or judgment in his voice, just a matter a fact statement. Karen glanced over at him, her eyes wide in shock. It was so not like Matt.

“I do. Yeah, I do.”

It was the first time she admitted it to anyone. Matt nodded, “Then you have my help. Always.”

This time the tears did fall.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

Once again, it was a struggle to take him inside the parish. Another set of stairs. When they got him to the basement, Maggie was already prepped, fresh bandages, an IV pole and fluids already set up and waiting for a patient. They laid him down and Maggie got to work placing an IV. Frank’s eyes flickered open and he started to resist. The group scrambled, shouting at him to stay still, but it was Karen’s voice that reached him.

“You’re safe Frank. Not a hospital. You’re safe. Let them help you.”

He settled and her hand stayed on his shoulder as Maggie continued. When the IV was placed and the bag of fluids started running, she took his blood pressure and sighed when she finished releasing the valve on the sphygmomanometer, air hissing out.

“It’s low of course, but not as bad as it could be.”

Karen smiled for the first time since the ordeal began, “Good. Thank you, Maggie, thank you so much.”

Maggie smiled fondly, “Of course. We’ll take care of him, you should get some rest.”

Karen shook her head, “I’ll stay, if I can?”

Maggie nodded. Karen felt a hand brush her arm and she turned to face Matt.

“His heartbeat is stronger. He’ll get through this. Don’t worry about work-stay however long you need to.”

Karen hugged him tightly, “Thank you Matt, seriously.”

Matt smiled and took his leave. Karen pulled up a chair, her hand clasped in Frank’s. She stared at this broken man, remembering how his path had crossed with hers. More like she stepped in the way of his. She had his face memorized since the day he left her in the woods. Every line of his furrowed brow, the small smile he flashed her in the café, and his eyes…she’d seen too much to think they’re empty, haunted yes, but full and clear.

Karen was pulled from her thoughts as Maggie started to change out the new bandages. Karen cleared her throat, “So, still helping those in need?”

Maggie glanced at her with a sly smile, “These church doors will always remain open to those who have nowhere else to go.”

“Even for…” Karen glanced over at Frank.

“Even for the Punisher, yes.”

Maggie’s hands were swift and gentle as she threw the soaked gauze away and cleaned his wounds. Karen’s gaze wandered as she took in all of Frank’s scars, it scared her how much she cared for him.

“It looked like the bullets didn’t pass clean through, we’ll work on getting those out when he’s more stable.”

Karen swallowed and gripped his hand tighter.

“He’s lucky to have you.” The kindness in Maggie’s voice was soothing, a balm for Karen’s aching heart. Karen smiled at her words, “I don’t know about that.”

Maggie cocked her head, her eyes bright, “Now why would you doubt that?”

Karen shrugged, “My presence in his life, uh-,” she took a deep breath, “I think is a distraction. One that he doesn’t want.”

She looked away, missing the fluttering movement of Frank’s closed eyes and the twitch of his lips. Maggie did not.

“Mmm, well. He seems to be a very focused man.”  

She finished the bandage and pulled the covers over Frank before taking a seat on the edge of his bed, facing Karen.

Karen let out a laugh, “That’s one way to put it.”

Maggie leaned forward, meeting Karen’s gaze, “But he’s still a man. He’s not a machine. Whatever his cause may be- revenge…justice…it can only last for so long before it takes its toll. It can still break a person, even one who seems infallible.”

Karen brushed away a stray tear as Maggie continued, “And in those moments, we all need somebody.” Maggie took placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I remember what happened that night, Karen. You were prepared to die. You could have run, but you stayed...you were ready to sacrifice yourself for those people.”

Father Lanthom’s death was still fresh in Karen's mind, as with everyone else’s death, but being in the church again made her memories stand just behind the door of every thought. 

“Don't make me sound so heroic." Her words were bitter, "I was ready and Father Lanthom... he shouldn't...he shouldn’t have done that.” Karen sniffed.

“My point is Karen, you are brave and you are strong. You have the strength to help a soul such as Frank's. Father Lanthom was a man of God, one of the few true men of God out there. He was ready to make that choice. You are not at fault. That mad man who threw the knife is.”

Maggie’s expression was calm and she was so sure. It almost made Karen want to believe her, but the guilt still brewed heavy in her blood.

“Still, so many people,” Karen gasped, her shoulders shaking as a sob tore through her, “So many people have died. Because of me. I’m not a good person, I’m no-,”

“Karen,” Maggie laid a hand over Karen’s. “It’s not your fault.”

Her eyes were red and her tears felt heavy.

“It’s not your fault. There is evil in this world and you are not part of it. We don’t always have a choice as to the path that God puts us on or what tragedies will befall us while we are on it. This man, you? My son? Everyone has a role to play, even if we don’t know it. Sometimes pure goodness can’t win against such forces-sometimes it takes the Punisher. Sometimes even those who are in favor in the eyes of the Lord must carry heavy baggage. A bad person wouldn’t feel this hurt so deeply, Karen. Forgive yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can,” She whispered.

It was quiet in the basement. They sat in silence for a moment, surrounded by statues of saints. Ordinary people called to do more, to be more.

“Then love. Keep loving. Sometimes it's the only answer.” She said it fiercely.

Karen’s blue eyes were glistening as she stared at the older woman. 

“You will find the truth-even if it is hard to see-when you love.” Her words lingered in the quiet room as Maggie stood, gathering her supplies. She placed them on the side table and allowed Karen time to collect herself.

“You should rest. He will make it through the night.”

Maggie was not surprised to see the woman shake her head, “No, I’ll stay. Thank you.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Maggie turned to leave. She paused for a moment, and turned back to face Karen, “You see all these saints Karen?" She gestured to the stained glass windows, "A wise man once said 'Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.' We do not know what God has in store for us. We must live our lives fully to find out.”

A somber smile fell over Maggie’s face as she walked back up to the rectory.

Karen continued to sit by Frank’s side, Maggie’s words ran through her mind as she watched Frank’s even breathing. She found comfort in it. She sighed and folded her arms on the mattress, letting her head rest in her arms, knowing full well her body would protest in the morning. Right now she didn’t care, she wanted to sleep at the side of the man she loved. It didn’t take long for her breathing to slow and sleep to take her.

Frank opened his eyes and looked at Karen. He softly ran a hand through her hair and she sighed in her sleep. He'd heard every word and it broke his heart. Frank knew this is the fight he would lose too. He’d been at war with himself over her and this was his breaking point. He wasn’t alone in his pain. He wasn’t alone in sorrow. He was reckless, only surviving the next day so he could fight another night and it was killing him. So maybe-maybe he’d allow himself this one good thing while he has it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from Hurt by Nine Inch Nails (Though lets be real, the only version I listen to is the Johnny Cash one) 
> 
> The quote Maggie says is by Oscar Wilde 
> 
> I tried to give Matt some character development since he was growing a bit in season 3. I mean he's still a dick, but with a little more tact and a little more determined to keep his friendships. I miss Claire, but Maggie will be my new Claire (obvi not the same, but hell if they could keep Matt alive from some fuckin serious crush injuries I figure they can help Frank). 
> 
> I think Maggie was there that night ?? Netflix is being a butt and not working so I couldn't confirm.  
> The "It's not your fault" anytime I write that sentence it's instantly Robin William's voice saying it in my mind haha.


	4. This hope is treacherous

 

 

 

> **_I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me  everything you had, and how I offered you what was left of me_ **

_Charles Bukowski_

Karen woke to sound of sheets rustling and the mattress dipping beneath her. She lifted her head off of her crossed arms, her blond hair astray. Her neck was stiff as she bent it to one shoulder, and shivered at the crack that ran through her spine.

She blinked awake to see Frank with one leg out of the bed, foot touching the concrete below.

“Hey.” His voice was a low rumble, thick with sleep.  
  
“Where are you going?” Karen murmured, eyeing the dressings clinging to his form.  
  
“Home.” Frank glanced around looking for his shirt.  
  
“You can’t go yet, the bullets still need to be taken out. You were bleeding too much yesterday to try then.”  
  
“I’ll take em out myself. Where’s my shir-,”  
  
“I cut it off last night. You’ll take them out yourself?” She narrowed her eyes, “What about the ones in your back? That’s the whole reason you called me.”  
  
Frank glared at her, but got back in bed. He glanced around the room-looking for an exit, taking stock of his surroundings,”Thank you. For coming.” He said it like it was an afterthought and his fingers danced nervously on his leg.Karen smiled to herself and relaxed back into the chair.  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
“Where are we anyway?” He asked before taking a sip of water from the glass on his bedside table.  
  
“Clinton Church. Matt’s church- it’s where he healed after the building collapsed. His mother is a nun here.”  
  
Frank raised his eyebrows, “So Red’s ma is a nun. Figures.”  
  
Karen cleared her throat “She’s the one who convinced me not to run when Fisk was after me.” She glanced around the room, remembering that night. That awful night.  
  
“She helped you?” Frank asked softly, taking in her crossed arms and the tension that ran through her.  
  
“Yeah. Yeah she’s a good person.” Her voice was quiet and Frank could tell her thoughts were elsewhere and he wanted to go with her, to follow her after whatever she was chasing.  
  
“A while back, you mentioned a priest. Is this where it happened?”  
  
Karen lifted her eyes and met Frank’s stare. He held himself still, his gaze focused on her- only her and she saw that within that practiced stillness was also a quiet rage. 

The rage that never left him. It never gave him peace either.

“Yeah,” She uncrossed her arms and gestured to the ceiling, “upstairs, by the alter.”  
  
Karen sighed and closed her eyes. She allowed herself to be in the memory of it all, but just for a moment. Enough to hear the screams and feel the shock she felt when she heard the knife strike another’s chest.  
  
She exhaled slowly and shook her head and for now the memory retreated.

Frank’s jaw twitched in anger.  
  
“I’m sorry, Karen.”   
  
“I know.” Karen’s lips quirked up in a small, sad smile, “You would have liked Father Lanthom.”  
  
“Yeah?” Frank looked skeptical.  
  
“He didn’t stand for any bullshit either.”  
  
“Mmm. And Fisk? How did he get your name?” Frank’s question was an invitation, not a demand. He could see her tense and her hesitation when her lips parted, as though she was trying to hold it all in.  
  
He waited patiently.  
  
“That started before I met you- when I was new to the city. I dug too deep. Got too close to one of Fisks’s secrets and uh, Fisk’s guy- Wesley...he caught wind of it and he took me one night.”  
  
Karen’s hands started to shake. She broke, “God, I fucking hate this. I hate that it all still has some-,” She angrily wiped a tear away, “some hold over me.”  
  
Frank took her hand and brushed a thumb over hers.  
  
“Hey, hey,”  
  
She closed her eyes and listened to his voice- soothing and sure. Deep and dark and filled with something she couldn’t place.  
  
Karen took a steadying breath and continued, keeping a tight grip on Frank’s hand.  
  
“He threatened me. He threatened Foggy and Matt. And the gun just sat there on the table and he didn’t expect me to do it,” a shaky laugh broke through her, “but I did. I was so... angry and scared and once I started shooting... I didn’t stop,” she glanced up at Frank and saw understanding, “I didn’t want to.”  
  
“You did the right thing, Karen.”  
  
Karen shook her head and her hair fell like a curtain, hiding her face. Hiding her from the truth she already knew.  
  
“ I know. I know I did, I just-,”  
  
“You did what you had to do. And it’s a fucked up situation to be in, but you survived and he didn’t. That son of a bitch is dead.”  
  
He wanted to add, “and I’d kill him for you if you hadn’t. If he was out there today, I’d make him pay,” but he had a feeling that she already knew that.  
  
Karen nodded, “Anyway, Fisk eventually found out and sent one of his men after me. We were at the Bulletin trying to get a statement from a man who could help put Fisk away and he came in- dressed as Daredevil- and killed an entire room of people. And then the fight ended up here.”  
  
“Christ Karen.” Frank shook his head, “and after all that, you want to be here? Sitting with a murderer.”  
  
There was no hiding from the word. Monster, no. But she couldn’t argue with murderer.   
  
But then again, so was she and she told him so.  
  
“It’s not the same Karen.”  
  
“Seven times, Frank. Seven shots.”  
  
“You put him down, you had to. I kill because-,”  
  
“I told you it doesn’t matter.”  
  
He stared at her with a glassy eyed expression. The fight ended with the sound of footsteps approaching.

Karen turned to see Maggie coming down the stairs with a tray stocked with fresh bandages, forceps, and a syringe and small glass vial.  
  
“Frank, a pleasure to see you awake.”  
  
Frank nodded, “Ma’am, thank you for your help.”  
  
Maggie smiled, “You won’t feel like thanking me after this, but I do have morphine.”  
  
She started draw up the drug and knelt beside him before she screwed on the syringe. She pinched the connecting tubing as she slowly pushed the plunger down.  
  
“And where’d you get that Sister?” Frank asked.

“The church has many friends.”

She stood and took a pair of gloves and handed them to Karen before putting on a pair herself.  
  
“Alright Mr. Castle, are you ready?”  
  
Frank gave a small nod and grit his teeth, “Just get it done.”  
  
Karen started peeling back the dressing and cleaned around the wound. He tensed as Maggie inserted the forceps. He felt her digging and a small groan escaped.  
  
Karen bit her lip and squeezed his hand.

“Got it.”  
Slowly Maggie pulled out the bullet and dropped it into a bowl with a clang.  
  
“Four more to go.” Muttered Frank.  
  
Towards the end, Maggie insisted on more Morphine to which Frank refused. Karen spoke to him softly, pleading with him that he didn’t need to suffer right now. They had the means to ease his pain and that he’s already born enough pain to last a lifetime.

Frank begrudgingly accepted. When the last bullet was out. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. His limbs felt heavy.  
  
The days and nights passed. Frank protested the length of stay, but Karen wasn’t letting up. He did convince her to go home to sleep, tired of seeing the exhaustion in her eyes.

She didn’t tell him that she slept better at his side.

By Monday, he was up and moving and his dressings were staying clean. He agreed to stay if Karen agreed to go back to work.

By Thursday, Karen couldn’t stop him. He was already up and halfway dressed when she came to the church that evening.  
  
“You can’t keep me here forever, Karen.”  
  
She sighed and nodded before she helped him pull a light jacket on over the t-shirt she had bought him. 

They stood at the bottom of the stairs and she glanced around the basement, by now everything was back in its place. It was simply a basement, no longer a makeshift hospital.

In her hand was a bag, in it was a pill bottle of antibiotics.  
  
When Maggie had handed them over, Frank laughed- “More friends?”  
  
Maggie nodded with a small smile. She hugged Karen and placed a hand on Frank’s arm.  
  
“You are always welcome here Frank.”  
  
Her words took him by surprise. He saw only compassion in her eyes and it chipped away at the part of himself he had tried so desperately to put a wall around. Some days he cursed his humanity, today he cherished it.  
  
Karen led him upstairs, she handed him a baseball cap and together they walked to her car. The warehouse looked the same as it did in the daytime-decrepit and in disarray.

Hardly a home, but it was his.

She turned the key and the engine shut off. They both sat in silence for a moment, lost in their thoughts. Frank sighed and took off his cap, running a hand through his short hair.  
  
It was Karen who spoke first, staring ahead.  
  
“You know I wanted you to kiss me.” She glanced over at him, “That day in the hospital.” His eyes burned and she saw his gaze flicker to her lips, so fast that anyone else would have missed it.  
  
She continued, “You were saying goodbye and it hurt. God, it hurt so much.”  
  
“Karen.”

It was a whisper and she closed her eyes and smiled when he reached for her. Brushing her hair aside he gently cupped her cheek, thumb brushing softly over her jaw.  
  
She opened her eyes and brought her hand to cover his. At the touch of his lips against hers, she opened to him with a quiet gasp.  
  
The gentleness didn’t last long. He kissed her like a dying man. And in a way she supposed that he believed that he was as good as dead already.

Not to her.

When she bit his lip, he let out a low growl and she shivered at the sound.  
  
His hand slid to her neck, his thumb pressed ever so slightly to the underside of her jaw, feeling her pulse dance beneath his fingertips as his tongue pressed against hers.  
  
She tilted her head. When he pressed his lips to that same spot, she sighed.  
  
They were both breathing heavy and she opened her eyes. She found Frank staring back at her, chest rising, eyes full of want. She rested her head against his and placed her hand over his, guiding them down her neck to the space just above her left breast.  
  
Her heart beat furiously and he felt each glorious beat beneath his fingertips. At that he closed his eyes and took a slow breath, calming his own ragged breathing.  
  
“God, Karen. I’ve wanted this.”  
  
“You have it Frank. Let yourself have it.”  
  
Frank nodded, and glanced out the window at the warehouse, knowing it was time. Time for him to return to the life he had chosen. He was such a fucking idiot that day, he should have walked away. But it was like the choice only existed in that moment, even though he knew- if he asked her to ask him that same question, to leave it all behind right now, she would.

In a heartbeat.  
  
But for now, for now he would split himself in two, no matter how much it ripped him to pieces. He’d been torn apart already at the hands of violence, what’s the harm in giving love another chance to break him.  
  
He kissed her slowly this time.  
  
This wasn’t a fair deal for her. She was giving him everything and he had so little left to give back to her. He felt her grip on his shirt tighten as if she could read his thoughts.  
  
When he pulled away, he saw her cheeks were stained with tears.  
  
“Hey now- none of that.”  
  
She laughed, and wiped them away, “They’re happy tears.” Karen smiled at him, “I promise.”  
  
“Happy is good. Yeah.”  
  
Frank glanced back at the warehouse, knowing what waited for him.  
  
“It’s ok Frank.”  
  
He turned back to her. She looked so damn beautiful. Lips pink, eyes bright.  
“It’s ok.” She repeated and he nodded.  
  
“Karen, I..” His eyes were full with such love. Such devotion.  
  
“I know Frank, it’s ok. I know.”  
She sniffed and wiped another stray tear away.  
  
“I’ll see you around ok.” He said the words gruffly and she knew them to be true.  
  
He grabbed the bag with the pills and opened the car door and stepped out. Frank waited before going inside, watching her buckle herself in and drive away.

She kept looking back in the rear view until he disappeared into the warehouse.  
  
Karen breathed in deeply.  
  
Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of the chapter is from Taylor Swift’s “Treacherous” listen to it y’all to me it’s got Kastle vibes.
> 
> Also just wanted to say thank you for all the kind words. Writing this after a loooong hiatus from writing so I feel like I’m still trying to find my voice again.
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes, my laptop is being an ass so I had to type it all out on my phone and I feel like I have big thumbs -_-


	5. A quiet moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To really get the vibe of the chapter please listen to Jasmine Thompson's cover of You are my Sunshine ;^; see more notes at the end <3
> 
> Warning: vague mentions of child abuse.

>  

  _ **It never ends, the bruise of being-**_

> _Kevin Young_

How did Karen define her relationship with Frank Castle? The trick to that question was that she didn’t. Whatever they had, all that she cared about was that _it was_.

They were ever present and alive, and that was enough for her. She didn’t need any grand romantic gestures and Karen was pretty sure that using your body as a shield against oncoming bullets counted.

Besides, conventional had never really been her style anyway .

The first time he came to her apartment, he took his time. Walking slowly around each room, he took in all that was Karen Page. Each painting on the wall, each photograph in its frame. The books on her shelf, noting which spines were cracked from frequent use. Frank paused when he reached the windowsill where the fragile roses lay.

“You kept them.”

He spoke a certainty, but still he sounded tentative.

“It’s not every day a man brings me flowers,” She said softly as she walked over to him, brushing her hand against his shoulder.

He ducked his head, a sheepish smile threatening to break. When he laughed, Karen laughed too. All that they had been through together. Each bullet, each shard of glass, each thread woven together… all seemed like something out of a fever dream. Sometimes laughing is all you can do. 

It started like that-a gentleness, a new nervousness as they blended their lives together as best as they could, like mismatched broken pieces of a mirror. He was always quiet and did his best not to draw any attention to himself on his way to her apartment. As far as Karen knew, the neighbors had no idea about the man who visited her or the violence that followed him.

Some nights he came to her, bloody and bruised. Wordlessly, she would take his hand and lead him to the bathroom. He sat, leaning against the wall, with his head hanging low. Sometimes it sounded like it hurt him to even breathe. She’d turn on the faucet and wait for the water to warm before she helped him undress, gently peeling away the blood-stained clothes.

Some nights she joined him under the spray. There was something both sick and lovely in how it carried his blood over her naked body while he gripped her tightly, his head buried in the crook of her neck. She would gasp when he slid into her and moan when he held her to him, his hand cradling her throat as she turned to watch each thrust. She’d arch back into him, meeting his every movement. His breathing was ragged and he kissed her like he wanted to consume everything that she would give him.

Some nights they hardly spoke.

Some nights he couldn’t stop talking. Telling her things that he’d never told anyone, things he hid from Maria, from himself. Karen listened as though she was hearing his last confession. He would never know that she started praying again every night.

Some nights he just listened.

On those nights Karen knew what he needed to hear- a rundown of the mundane cases at the office, or a happy memory from her childhood or the dreams she had for herself as a young girl. He listened as she spoke about a short story that stuck with her ever since her high school English class. It was mundane and meaningless in way, and that was what mattered. It took his mind from the horrors he that he had just witnessed-the horrors that snuck up on him in the dark.

That night it was the group of children he’d found huddled in the backroom of one of the Russian’s den. Their own eyes dark and empty, much like he found his to be when he looked in the mirror. His stomach twisted in knots and Frank wished he could bring back every dead Russian that lay strewn behind him, just so he could kill them again. Just so he could watch them beg and bleed. He waited in the shadows until the police came. He stayed until every child was gone. The sorrow was too heavy to be anything other than what it was. No blood thirsty rage could match the scream he wanted to release. Instead he carried it, letting it surge and sway like a storm brewing inside.

He held it until he passed through her door.

Karen saw it in his eyes, and she wept with him when there were no more stories to tell other than that which he had seen.

On nights such as those she kissed him with a raw hunger and his hands gripped her thighs tight in a bruising grip as he gazed up at her. She kissed him deeply. Anything to replace the images that plagued him. Anything to help him feel alive. She grounded him with her whimper of pleasure when he rolled her under him, pressing her firmly into the mattress. Her sighs were healing and her warmth soothing. Her voice was soft as she urged him on, pleading as her pleasure rose when his hips met hers. He whispered words of praise, of love, and of reverence.

On those nights Karen knew there would be no one else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> went with a prose-y interlude of sorts <3
> 
> Short, sad, and hopefully somewhat sweet. 
> 
> (and yo I tried, I TRIED to make this not sad....but it's just not in me-angst is my default, especially with these beautiful characters)


	6. It's not the end

> **_Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end._ **
> 
> _John Lennon_

Karen loved her job. Investigating had all the same perks of journalism, just that her audience was more selective and she had fewer people to answer to. There was a sense of freedom to it and she really did feel like she was helping people. If there was one thing that their clients knew it was that Nelson, Murdock, and Page _truly cared_ -in a way so different than most people found when dealing with lawyers. In this city, that news traveled fast. Yes, they said, one is the lawyer that ran for DA and stepped down from the race and yes, one of them was Karen Page-yes, the journalist- but if you want to feel like you have a team that goes above and beyond for your case…go see them.

There was enough business now to have a secretary and a change in office space. Karen had her own office and name plaque by the door.   
It felt good. It felt right. Working with Foggy and Matt again, when everyone had the same goal in mind, was priceless.

Karen was happy and it felt like grace.

It felt like hope.

\-----

At work, a money laundering case held her focus. The clients were tenants to a landlord who had assets tied up in the new high rise they were living in as well as with drugs being sold by the Russians. Word is that he had a debt that he owed them, hence the use of the high rise and all its luxury stores housed on the ground level. On first glance, the building looked beautiful, but if you stared long enough there were aspects to daily comings and goings of people inside that didn't add up.

The firm's clients had complaints and it was a lawsuit waiting to happen.

She parked her car on the side of the street closest to the office, a lucky find for midday and hugged her coat tightly to her as she jogged to the front door, the February air still freezing and merciless. The bell chimed announcing her entrance. She took off her scarf and coat, throwing them in her office before she met Matt and Foggy in the conference room. They sat hunched over multiple documents, building schematics and photos- the sub sandwiches they had delivered earlier were abandoned at the end of the table. Karen smiled to herself, it wasn’t the first working lunch that ended up just being work.

“Hey Karen.” Matt smiled as she sat across from them.

“Hey guys,” she was still a little breathless, “I think I got something good that will help connect our timeline a little better.”

She pulled out a folder from her bag and handed it to Foggy. He shuffled through Karen’s work as she told them her thoughts. Foggy started to smile and nod.

“This is good! We can use this in the prelim next week. Karen, do you think you could circle back with some of the client’s neighbors and get a few statements to back up their concerns.”

“Yeah, definitely.” She nodded and she grinned, excitement rushing through her.

“Awesome. Can you get it to me by the 11th? I want to have everything filed shortly after that.”

She froze. February 11th was never a good day and it was a date she usually never forgot. Except that she had, somehow in the midst of life going well, the days had blended together and the day her brother died got caught in the mix.  
  
“Karen?”

Foggy asked with concern, as he glanced over at Matt. Matt shrugged. 

“Uh-right.” She shook her head and forced herself to smile, “I’ll get it to you by then.”

“Everything ok?” Matt asked, his head cocked in a way that she just knew that he was listening to her heart.

“Just. The 11th, it’s the day…” She sighed, “It just hasn’t been a good day for a couple of years, and I didn’t realize it was so soon.”

_Bad memories._

It didn’t need to be said. Matt nodded and Foggy gave her a sympathetic look.

“You want to talk about it?” Asked Foggy. He said it so kindly that this time, Karen’s smile wasn’t forced.   
She shook her head, “Not today. Soon, but thank you.”

“We’re here for you Karen.”

Karen glanced at Matt and nodded, “Thanks. I mean it.” She cleared her throat and handed a copy of a tax statement over to Foggy, “I found this too.”  
Her voice was steady, and the conversation veered back to the matter at hand. For the next couple of days, she stayed busy. Busy with work, busy with deep cleaning every inch of her apartment, busy with staring at her phone and the contact that was in her favorites listed as “Home”.

An odd number to have in her favorites, given how she rarely called it, but still…it felt like it belonged there. Her finger hovered over the word and she dared herself to push it.

It wasn’t till the night of the 11th that she did.

Karen poured herself a drink, whisky neat, and sat down at the kitchen table. Once the glass was empty, she took a steadying breath and called home.   
The phone rang and Karen hoped it wouldn’t answer. She knew it was a stupid choice, she knew it wasn’t going to bring her any comfort, but whatever was coming.....tonight she felt like she deserved it.

“Hello?”

Her dad sounded tired and she imagined that he had wasted away in the years that she had been gone. She wouldn’t know of course. She wasn’t welcome home.

“Hi Dad,” She sniffed and bit her lip, fighting tears back.

“Karen.” He sighed, “Why are you calling? Why are you calling tonight?”

She took a shuddering breath and she broke, “I miss him Dad. I miss Kevin so much."

She was met with silence. Not _Me too, baby. I miss him too._ No. She tensed when he started speaking again, preparing herself for the impact of his words. 

“Well. Well we could still have him here if you hadn’t…if you hadn’t….” Paxton Page started to sob.

Karen babbled, “I’m sorry Dad. I am so sorry. Please…”

_Please forgive me._

After a moment, he collected himself, “I don’t have anything to say to you. Not tonight.”

The call disconnected and Karen slowly put the phone down. She stared at it, almost as if she could will a different outcome. Her hands shook and in a burst of anger she swept the glass off the table. It shattered on the floor.

She sobbed, knowing that Kevin wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want her to blame herself and he certainly wouldn’t have wanted her to be estranged from her father, but trying to mend that wound was like trying to bring back the dead. A cause that would always lead to failure and ruin.

Karen ignored the mess on the floor and walked into her room. She opened the closet door and stood on her toes to grab a box, high up on the shelf. Sitting on the floor, she opened the lid and started flipping through her family photos. She smiled to herself, the first one was of Kevin at 8 years old and it was taken in the middle of him blowing out the candles to his cake. He had a NASCAR themed birthday party that year. Karen remembered how she had pretended to hate it.

The next one cut deeper, it was her high school graduation, when her future had looked so bright. Her mother was smiling proudly at her side.   
Slowly Karen went through each photograph and let herself feel. Let herself remember.   
After the last photo, she placed them gently back in their box and wiped away a tear.

She knew the number she needed to call.

\---

Frank answered on the first ring. She had hoped he would. It was late, or early depending on who you asked.

“Up late Page.”

“Yeah,” she laughed and there was no humor in it, “Yeah I am.”

“Talk to me Karen.” The lightness in his tone was gone and he knew something was off. He knew her so well.

“Can you come over?”  
She heard a shuffle on the other end and breathed a sigh of relief when he said, “Already on my way.”

“Thank you, Frank.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

She hung up and closed her eyes. It would be okay. When she opened them, she looked back at the broken glass and sighed. It was too late at night to vacuum. Slipping on her flats, she knelt down and started to pick up the pieces that she could and swept up the rest.   
Karen had almost finished when she felt a sharp sting in her hand. She winced and saw a nickel sized shard sticking out of the pinky side of her left hand. It wasn’t deep, but she would have to pull it out.

Abandoning the rest of the task, she went to the bathroom and dug out her ample supply of bandages and hydrogen peroxide mix. She cleaned around the glass as best she could before she opened a package of gauze.   
Karen swore when she pulled the piece free and rinsed her hand in the sink before she doubled up on gauze.

She had just grabbed the tape, when she heard a quiet knock on her front door. With one hand on the gauze, Karen walked back to her front hallway. She slid the chain aside and opened the door gently.

Frank stood, hands pressed deep into his hoodie’s pockets. His brows furrowed as his gaze skated over her face and down to the bloody gauze pressed to her hand.

“Hey,” Karen smiled and stepped aside to let him in.

He raised his eyebrows and wordlessly walked in, eyes scanning around the apartment. Looking for a cause, looking for a threat.

“You better keep your shoes on, I made a bit of a mess.”  
Frank relaxed and followed her to the kitchen table. His eyes never left her as he sat down, the chair groaning under him.

“So there’s no asshole that I need to go beat up?”

Karen shook her head, “No, unless you want a go at Jack.” She gestured to the bottle on the counter. He leaned forward, finally taking his hands out of his pockets.

“I’ll pass tonight. C’mere, let me see that hand.”

She reached out and he silently took her hand. Gently lifting the gauze to catch a quick glimpse of the wound,vFrank sighed.

“You earned yourself a few stitches.”

Karen groaned while Frank rose from his seat and grabbed the kit from her bathroom. He opened it and soaked a few more gauze with hydrogen peroxide. Karen watched him work, content with the silence. He was too, until he started stitching.

Frank cleared his throat, “So-what happened?”

Karen sighed, wincing at the sensation of the needle, “I promise I didn’t call you just to come stitch me up.”

He paused and shrugged, “It’d be okay if you did. Hell, I owe you one anyway” The sat quietly for another minute or two before he asked, "So why did you call?"  
Karen continued to focus on the movement of the needle when she spoke.

“My brother died five years ago today.”

Frank kept working and she took a deep breath as she told him the story of that night and the accident-and all that lead up to it.

He had finished stitching before she was done but continued to loosely hold her hand as she spoke. His gaze was cast downward, and she was thankful for it. She wouldn’t be able to finish her story if she saw the look of pain in his eyes. Tonight she felt like she needed to finish telling it to someone.

Grief was one of the things they shared. Grief and guilt.

She told him about her phone call with her dad and he stirred with anger. Karen held his hand tighter and the movement pulled ever so slightly at the stitches. She bit her lip in pain and Frank stilled.

“I’m so sorry Karen, this when you left home?”

Karen nodded, “My Dad told me to go. He didn’t want me there.”

“Christ” Frank shook his head.

Karen cleared her throat, “I called because…because days like this, I don’t know how to live with the guilt.”

“Don’t do that to yourself, Karen. Don’t go down that road.”

He scooted his chair closer and held her clasped hands in his, “No good doing that. You think about Kevin.” His voice was heavy with his own grief, “You think about you brother and you remember the good things, not the ugliness of that night. Okay?”

He looked scared. His grip was tight, unintentionally so and his voice was low. Karen realized he was scared _for her_ because he knew how dangerous that path was to tread down. He knew what lay waiting for her and he wanted to protect her from it for as long as he could.

She nodded and bit her lip as she thought.

“Wait here a sec,”

Frank nodded and Karen stood and walked back to her bedroom. She emerged with her box of photos in hand. She sat down and hesitantly opened it and pulled out a few pictures of her baby brother. She showed him and slowly she started telling him about Kevin. He asked questions and flashed a genuine smile at her stories of their childhood.

With each photo it became easier for Karen to speak about Kevin.

Eventually she felt the weight of exhaustion hang over her. Karen stood and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Frank’s head.   
He pulled her into his lap, enveloping her in his arms.

His voice was rough, “You know I love you right?”   
Her eyes widened and she leaned in and kissed him slowly, knowing the strength it took for him to say those words.

Frank returned the kiss with fervor and rose to stand. Slowly he maneuvered them through her living room into her bedroom as he carried her. He laid her down on her bed, slipped off her flats, and moved to get up.

“Stay” she groaned, her hands clutching his shirt.

“I will, I’ll just be a sec.” He loosened her hold on him and went back into the kitchen. Karen tried to keep her eyes open and when she was finally successful, she realized that Frank was finishing what she’d abandoned earlier and was cleaning up the glass.

Karen smiled to herself, she had been looking for home everywhere except the obvious. He was here now and he loved her.

When he returned, she had a peaceful smile on her face and she was sleeping soundly. Frank sank into the bed and pulled her close. She nestled into him and he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to go back and reference DD season 3 and found that scene where Father Lanthom talks to Karen about guilt-hence the use of the same John Lennon quote.


	7. It’s the fear

It happened in slow motion- the car sumersaulted off the guardrail and suddenly they were flying.The feeling of impact and then for a few brief seconds there was nothing- just black.

When she woke there was blood-trickling down her face and blood covering her baby brother. 

A sob racked through her. 

She wanted to die. She wanted to trade her life for his. She would do anything for him to be here and not her. 

Everything that Karen Page was threatenened to burst from the shock and grief. She didn’t know how this moment could be real. She didn’t understand how one second he was there and thirty seconds later he was gone. 

She hung suspended upside down and tried to free herself. She looked to the drivers side window as the sound of boots crunching on glass came closer.

The person outside the overturned vehicle stopped, crouched and peered inside.

“Hello Karen.”

She pulled at her seatbelt, rattling it and tugging at it to try and free herself from the man pretending to be Daredevil. 

His voice was cold and less than human. She knew that the look in his eyes would be just as dead as the ones on the mask. 

Dex reached for her with a gloved hand while the other cut her seatbelt. He glanced at the still passenger and laughed cruelly.

“Look what you did Karen.”

He dragged her out of the car by her hair and she screamed. Pain riddled her body, but she fought his every movement. Dex released her suddenly and she scrambled as she reached for her gun. 

But there wasn’t one. 

Dex tutted, “Ah, not this time Karen.”

Her hands searched blindly for a shard of glass. She didn’t care that she was cutting up her hands in the process. 

Dex crouched before her and a wicked grin spread across his face. He wrapped both hands around her neck. 

“I’m not going to do this quickly. It’s what you deserve.”

Karen struggled to take in a breath and the he started to squeeze. She couldn’t breathe, there was only fear and the drive to survive. Her eyes widened in panic and she clawed at his hands desperately.

“Karen!”

A deep voice broke through and pulled her to the surface. She opened her eyes with a gasp to find Frank hovering over her, with worried eyes as his hands held hers back. His grip was just strong enough to prevent her from scratching at him, not enough to hurt her.

“You’re safe, Karen. I’ve got you.”

She looked around in panic expecting to see a darkened road with glass sparkling in the headlights. She expected to see the car upside down and she expected to see Pointdexter grinning over her. 

Karen moved to press one of her hands to her throat, but Frank held her hands still. 

“Karen, talk to me baby. C’mon.”

She took a gasping breath and realized she was crying. Karen closed her eyes again and opened them, focusing on the room before her. It was hers. Kevin had died years ago. Pointdexter wasn’t here.

Frank.

Frank was next to her. Shirtless, his own breathing heavy and worry framing his face.

“Frank.” She whispered.

“Yeah, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Karen nodded and relaxed as Frank released her. She rubbed a hand over her neck, expecting it to be sore- but it wasn’t. If she looked in the mirror she knew there would be no bruises.

“God, I’m so sorry Frank.” She sat up and pressed the heel of her palm over her eyes, “Fuck!”

“You scared the shit outta me.” 

His voice wavered as he leaned back against the bed frame and rubbed Karen’s back as she leaned forward over her knees. 

“Yeah,” she gulped, “sorry about that.” 

“Guess I’m not the only one, huh?”

Karen shook her head, “No, no you’re not the only one.”  

Frank squeezed her shoulder and started to get out of bed. Karen grabbed his hand before his feet touched the ground.

“Stay. Please stay.” 

She looked up at him and her fear matched his. 

“I will, just getting you some water.”

Karen relaxed back and watched him walk into her kitchen . 

She hadn’t had nightmares like that in a few months. The anniversary of her brother’s death stirred up her demons. God, if she had only seen that guardrail. If she hadn’t been drinking or-

“Quit it.”

Karen glanced up to see Frank standing in front of her holding out a glass of water.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking- just quit it.” He growled.

Karen took a sip of water and set it on the bedside table.

“Am I that transparent?” She asked. 

Frank sat back down on the bed next to her.

“No. I just know you, Page.”

She smiled weakly and glanced over at him. He was on edge, she could tell. Usually it was Karen waking up Frank,not the other way around. He never struck out at her though- thank God. He would never forgive himself if he hurt her.  

Karen paused, her gaze roaming over Frank.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Just a scratch.”

There across the side of his neck were four angry lines.

“God-I’m so sorry Frank.”

Frank shook his head, “No need. Nightmare or not, you were fighting for your life-never apologize for that.”

Karen nodded and leaned into him with a sigh. 

“Who was it?” Frank asked. He kept his voice controlled and Karen knew he was tense. 

“Benjamin Pointdexter.”

“That the piece of shit that came after you?”

“Yeah.” Karen nodded and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“He dead?”

Karen raised her eyebrows and shifted her weight, the bed creaking beneath her. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Matt said Fisk smashed him into a wall. And Fisk is a strong man so. Wherever he is, he won’t be walking.”

Frank hummed and Karen knew that wasn’t enough for him.

“Just leave it be, Frank.” 

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded and gazed off into the living room and Karen knew it was a half hearted agreement.

She turned to face him and his attention turned away from thoughts of revenge and bloodshed. 

“What about you? How’d you sleep?”

Frank held her close, “Good.”

Karen smiled, “Good.”

He didn’t tell her that this one night of reprieve was a deviation from the past couple of nights. His nightmares had shifted on him- it would start with his family, with the sound of gunfire, and ended with his family dead and torn up on the ground in front of him. He didn’t tell her that when he reached down to hold Maria in his arms it was Karen- her body riddled with bullets.

Not last night though. Last night he slept soundly, and if he dreamed he didn’t remeber it. 

Frank knew the first thing he was going to do when he returned to the warehouse was find a location on Benjamin Pointdexter, but for now, Frank had other things on his mind. 

Slowly, he undressed Karen. She closed her eyes and smiled as he gently kissed her neck, her breasts, her thighs. When he pressed his tongue over her underwear, her stomach fluttered and she knew she was already wet. 

He pulled the underwear down her hips and parted her thighs. 

Frank glanced up at her and her cheeks were flushed.

“You know you don’t have to.”

Frank smirked, “Was already planning to and that was before you had a shitty start to the morning.”

Her laugh was cut off short as he leaned back down. She moaned when his tongue slid over her and her legs shook as he circled her clit. He worked her over slowly, bringing her to the edge and stopping just before she came. 

“Frank” she breathed as she ran her fingers through his hair. He added two fingers and continued to press his lips to her clit. She writhed, the bundle of nerves sensitive. When he curled his fingers inside of her she came. A shudder ran through her and her breathing slowly started to return to normal.

He licked up her slit one last time and she tasted herself when she kissed him. When she pulled away, he pressed a final kiss to her cheek and stood. 

She sighed with contentment as the dark images that filled her morning disappeared. Karen stretched, strewn in the covers as she watched Frank head to the kitchen. 

He started pulling out the eggs and milk from her fridge.

She sat up, “Are you making me breakfast?” 

“Sure am.” He called out and shut the kitchen fridge.

Karen bit her lip, hiding a smile. So much for no brunch dates. 

Eventually she got up, went to the bathroom and padded out to the kitchen table still wrapped in a blanket from her bed. 

She watched him and smiled. He glanced up at her every now and then, feeling her stare. He turned and flashed a small smile himself, spatula in hand.

“What?”

Karen shook her head, “Nothing- I’m just happy you’re here.”

“Me too.”

They both ignored the what if’s that always haunted them both. 

For now they had this. Whatever this was, it was enough. 

 


	8. It starts with the end

It had started out as a normal Saturday. Karen woke from a dreamless sleep to the sounds of the city. She stayed in bed for a few minutes, scrolling through the news on her phone. She’d never admit to anyone that she set up google alerts to notify her of any story that sounded like it mentioned the Punisher’s MO.

There was nothing.

Karen sighed-unsure if it was out of relief or disappointment. Slowly she got out of bed and went straight to the coffee maker. She placed an English muffin in the toaster and leaned back. As the coffee machine hummed with activity, Karen tapped a finger against the counter, lost in thought. The last time she saw Frank he’d seemed on edge, more so than usual.

_She put down her beer and faced him as he sat hunched forward on her couch._

_“What’s up?”_

_He glanced up at her, his brow furrowed, "_ _I gotta follow something outta town for a few days, maybe longer.”_

_Karen stretched and leaned against the couch, head resting on her hand._

_“Ok.”_

_Frank sniffed and carded a hand through his short hair. When he spoke his voice was gruff._

_“Haven’t left since we...”_

_Since we started. He wasn’t sure how to elaborate. Karen nodded._

_“It’s ok, Frank. It’ll all be ok.”_

_“You can’t know that.”_

_Karen shrugged, “Maybe- but what’s the alternative? Letting the fear control you?”_

_Frank shook his head and leaned back,_ _“You call me ok? Anything comes up. I don’t give a shit-you had a terrible day, something doesn’t feel right- you call me.I’ll let you know when I’m heading back.”_

_Karen leaned in and cradled his face as his eyes roamed over her, taking in her sweet smile._

_“It’ll be ok.” She whispered before pressing her lips to his._

_There were no more words spoken, just touch and taste. Slow, achingly tender movements and quiet gasps._

The slices of English muffin sprang up from the toaster and Karen’s thoughts slipped back to the present. She spread the raspberry jam over each slice, enjoying the sound of each scrape. She poured herself a large cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. After taking a bite, she flipped open to the dog eared page of the novel she was reading and became absorbed in a world so different than her own. She was grateful for the distraction.

Eventually Karen put the book aside and placed her dishes in the sink. The rest of her day would match her morning, but she wanted to stop at the small neighborhood grocery store a few blocks over to grab a few ingredients for dinner.

She was almost to the store when she heard a van accelerate with a loud cough and sputter. When she turned to look, a white van screeched to a halt parallel to her and two masked men exited the vehicle towards her.

Karen didn’t have time to think. Barely had time to reach for her gun as they picked her up. She kicked and screamed. It was still early. The streets were practically empty and the men were fast. As soon as she was in the van they had her hands zip tied behind her and duct tape over mouth.

Karen struggled and one of the men abruptly slapped her in the face. She hit the floor of the van, reeling in shock and pain. She glanced around the van, but it was empty save for her and the two men. Frantically Karen thought through her recent cases, searching for any cause for her current situation.

Nothing came to mind.

Karen focused on slowing her breathing and her eyes darted to the van windows. They were blacked out. Instead she did her best to estimate how long they’d been driving and the number and direction of any turns they made. By the time they stopped, Karen was as calm as she could force herself to be. The men dragged her out of the van. They were in a large garage and they dumped her in a chair a few feet away from the parked van. Her eyes blinked to adjust under the florescent lights.

It was cold and dank. The men all still had ski masks on. One man, tall and broad shouldered approached her.

“Miss Page.” He greeted as he pulled on a pair of leather gloves. He spoke in a Russian accent. It was always fucking Russian, Karen thought.

He stepped toward her, bent down and ripped the tape off. Karen glared at him. The man stared at her for a moment as if trying to place her. He laughed, “I heard about you.”

Karen seethed, “Then you’ll know you’re making a big mistake.”

He laughed again, “Ah, yes. You are referring to your friendship with the Punisher? My sources tell me he’s been out of the city for over a week now.”

Karen did her best to remain still. She swallowed.

“What’s this about then?”

“My employer doesn’t like unfinished business.”

“Fisk?”

The man shrugged, “Mr.Fisk is out of commission these days. Not to say that he doesn’t still have allies.”

Karen grit her teeth, “Then what do you want from me?”

The man stopped his slow pacing and faced her, “I think you know the answer to that question.”

She braced herself for the punch.

* * *

 Brett Mahoney was tired. It was the understatement of the century, but he wasn’t one to elaborate. That’s why he liked his job- you get straight to the point, you get the facts and then you act. His level of tolerance for bullshit was at an all time low and everyone on the force knew it.

 He made his way to his desk after filling up his coffee and sighed when he saw Foggy Nelson sitting in the chair beside his desk.

“Now who the hell let you back here?”

“Martha at the front desk. She thinks I’m charming.” He flashed a grin, but it was weak.

Brett sighed again and sat down into his chair.

“All right. What do you want?” He didn’t hide the annoyance in his voice.

Foggy swallowed and his tone turned serious. “My coworker, Karen Page hasn’t shown up to work in two days. Her apartment is empty- I checked, I’ve got her spare key. No sign of forced entry. Her car is still parked outside the building.”

Foggy shifted in his seat, “I’m worried Brett.”

Brett could see that Nelson was speaking the truth and that he was coming from a place of genuine concern.

“This is Karen Page we’re talking about.”

Foggy looked confused, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Brett held up his hands defensively, “All I’m saying is she is a little...bold. She mention anything about going somewhere? Visiting a friend?”

“Karen is a hard ass, but she’s not stupid.” Foggy’s voice rose slightly.

“Ok, ok.” Brett paused and thought for a moment. “What do you think happened?”

Foggy balked, he hadn’t allowed himself to think any further thank the fact that she was missing.

“I don’t know. I can tell you the kind of cases she was investigating for the firm, but they’ve all been pretty cut and dry recently. You know her history with Fisk and everything that happened last year.”

“Fisk doesn’t have any contact with the outside world. We’ve seen to that. When did you you last see her?”

“Friday at work. She said she had no weekend plans and wanted to stay in. Matt and I spoke with her neighbors and no one saw or heard anything.”

“Where is Matt?”

Foggy paused, “Working. Holding down the fort.” He didn’t tell him he was scouring the city looking for Karen. Brett started asking more questions and with each question the worry became more tangible for Foggy. After taking a few more notes, Brett sighed and scratched his head, “ I gotta ask Foggy- do you know if she’s had any contact with Frank Castle recently.”

Foggy looked at him dumbfounded, “No, not that I know of. I think it’s been since the bomber in the hotel.”

Brett raised his eyebrows and tapped his pen, “Well it’s been a little more recent than that. She saw him when he was in the hospital.”

“Shit Karen” Foggy rubbed his eyes. “Ok. Either way do you think this has something to do with him?”

“Not sure. I’ll have a guy go out and question people in the area.”

Foggy gulped and nodded. Brett’s expression softened and he reached over to squeeze Foggy’s shoulder, “We’ll find her, Foggy.”

 Foggy nodded with a small smile, “Thanks Brett. I really appreciate it.”

 “Don’t mention it.”

 Foggy said his goodbyes and Brett sat back in his chair and flipped back through the notes.

  _Karen fucking Page._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I think I actually see an end in sight for this fic. Figured something ought to happen at some point lol. <3 thanks for reading.


	9. I'll be your shield

 His business in Baltimore was over and he was on his way back to the city when he tried calling her.Frank knew something was up when she didn’t call him back that night. He knew something was really wrong when she didn’t call back the next day. Now he drove with a tight grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white.It was evening when he made it back into the city. He dropped off the van and booked it over to Karen’s.

Frank paused when he saw the two NYPD cars sitting outside the building. He swore under his breath and kept walking. Peering into the apartment’s lot, he let out a breath when he spotted her car. He tried calling her again for good measure, but it went straight to voicemail. He felt the panic set in and his jaw clenched in anger. Fishing out his phone from his pocket, Frank dialed a number he swore he wouldn’t call again.

It rang a few times before it was answered.

“David, it’s Frank. I need a favor.”

“Hi Frank, good to hear from you,” David Lieberman’s voice was full of sarcastic cheer, “How am I? Oh thanks for asking! I’m excellent. The kids are gre-,”

“David.” Frank spoke with quietly. David heard the false sense of calm and the storm brewing underneath.

“I’m listening.”

“I need you to see if Karen Page has been admitted to any hospitals or if there any police reports written within the last couple of days.”

“Jesus, Frank. Okay.”

Frank heard him shuffling on the other end. He imagined him getting up from the table- maybe he was helping Leo with her homework, maybe he was preparing for dinner.

“You know I’m not really supposed to be doing this anymore” David muttered as he logged on to his desktop.

“I know. I wouldn’t have called- but it’s Karen.”

David sighed, “I know buddy.”

There were some days when Frank would catch himself missing Lieberman’s chatter. Frank heard the sound of frantic typing. He kept walking down the street listening to David mumbling to himself as he hacked into the appropriate databases.

“Okay.”

Frank tensed.

“Okay,” repeated David, “no hospital admissions. One current police report-says here her coworker reported her missing yesterday saying she hadn’t been into work and he hasn't heard from her.”

Frank grunted an acknowledgement.

“They’ve got video footage taken outside a shop near her apartment. It’s from this weekend, a day or two before she was reported missing.”

David went quiet and Frank stopped walking.

“Talk to me David.”

“Yeah- sorry. White van pulls up, two men in ski masks take her.”

Frank’s grip on the phone tightened and he held it away from his ear for a moment as he closed his eyes. This was it. This was the moment he’d been so afraid of. It was here and he couldn’t run from it. There were no more what ifs or when’s. It was now. It was like something out of his worst nightmares, except this time he couldn’t wake himself up. Reality was fucking with him in the worst way.

“Frank!?” He heard David calling to him. Frank brought the phone back to his ear. 

“Can you track the van?” His voice was harsh.

“Already on it.”

Frank nodded to himself, “I need Matt Murdock’s address.”

David rattled it off and Frank hung up and jogged back to the van. As he drove he noticed that his hands shook. Frank parked in the alley next to the building. The sound of hus heavy boots rang out in the hall as he took the stairs up two at a time. He strode down the long hallway and knocked loudly on Matt’s door.

It opened and Foggy Nelson stared at him, his eyes wide.

“Frank!?” He looked shocked. 

Frank pushed past him, glancing around the loft, “Where’s Murdock?”

Foggy shut the door. There was fear in his eyes.

“He’s out. Looking for Karen. I assume you hear-,”

Frank interrupted Foggy with a gruff, “Get him here.”

Foggy nodded, “Ok.”

Half an hour later, Frank found himself tapping a staccato rhythm on the couch arm. He looked up when he heard the roof entrance door open, scowling as Matt came down the stairs.

“Jesus Murdock, what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know Frank, I don’t stalk her like you do.”

Frank ignored the comment. Matt walked past Frank and grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and threw off the black wrap around his eyes. He sounded exhausted.

Foggy raised his eyebrows, “Lets keep it civil guys.”

“Did you find anything?” Frank leaned on the counter and watched as Matt caught his breath.

“No.”

Frank slammed a hand on the counter. Foggy jumped.

“Goddammit Red.”

“Hey, I’m trying here!” Matt yelled. 

Foggy rubbed his eyes in frustration as the two started yelling at each other.

“Hey!” Shouted Foggy. The two men looked at him, “let’s not waste time arguing with each other and focus on finding Karen. Last time I spoke with Brett, he said he was tracking the van that took her.”

Frank nodded, “Yeah I got a man looking into that too.” He turned to Matt, “I hope you know that I’m going to kill the fuck that took her.”

Matt sighed, “I wasn’t expecting anything less.”

Frank grunted. There was silence for minute or two before Frank’s phone started to ring. He answered with a tense, "Yeah?"

“Frank, I’ve got the truck. It’s Russians, man. They-,” David paused.

“They what Lieberman?” Frank prompted with a growl.

“Shit," David murmured, “You near a TV?”

“No why?”

“Just-how about a smart phone? I’ve been keeping an eye on the news and they're playing a ransom video.”

While David was talking Frank glanced at Foggy and motioned for him to give him his phone. Foggy rattled off the number and David started typing.

“Ok I sent you the link.”

Frank tapped on the message and the video popped up. Frank’s stomach dropped. It was Karen in front of a camera, a gun pointed to her head. A distorted voice came through the speaker of the phone. “If you want Karen Page to survive, Daredevil will meet with me tonight at 8 pm. If I see any law enforcement,” the person in the ski mask pressed the gun harder against her temple. Karen winced but stared ahead, her head held high. Her lips pressed tight. “She dies. If anyone other than Daredevil comes-“ he jostled the gun again, “she dies. 8pm..” the man rattled off the address and the live feed went back to the news anchors.

Frank wouldn't forget that image of Karen. She was breathing shallowly, her face bruised and her lip was busted. She looked defiant. His heart burned. 

“Frank!” Matt shouted at him. Frank didn’t realize he had already been moving towards the door.

 “Frank, you heard what he said!” Matt followed him.

“Shut it Red.” Frank got to the main hallway.

 “If she dies it’s on you.”

 Frank froze-his hand still gripping the doorknob. He hated to admit it, but Matt was right. Shit, he was too close to this- he couldn’t even think. All of it felt like his nightmares. His family was right there, right there and he knew what was coming, but he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move. Then the shots were fired and their blood was on his hands.

He swallowed and released his grip on the doorknob. Foggy watched wearily from the side of the room and Matt cleared his throat.

“We all care about her, Frank. Let’s be smart here.”

Frank nodded and settled back onto the couch. He took a deep breath.

“Ok Red. What’s your plan?”

Foggy breathed a sigh of relief and took a seat next to Matt.

There was silence for a moment before David’s voice came through the phone, “By the way, I’m still here too. I’m looking at surveillance of the place. I’ll keep you updated.”

“You think we have to worry about the cops?” Foggy asked.

Matt shook his head, “I don’t think so, at least I hope not. They’ll set up a perimeter, but they heard the threat too. He wants me.”

“Whoever he is, he’s got the Russians working with him. He’s gonna have help.” Frank added.

Matt nodded.

Frank shrugged, “Whoever sees him first is gonna have to take him out. One shot. He’s going to have Karen be his shield, so it better be a good shot.”

Frank cocked his head and stared at Matt, “You think you can take that shot?”

Matt didn’t answer, instead he asked David about the layout of the building.

Frank listened as Matt and David talked through the best point of entry. Everything in him was telling him to go now.  _Fuck the plan- go now, get her out, and kill that bastard. Make him bleed. Make him pay_. Underlying every thought, between each breath every part of himself was telling him what he knew to be true.  _This is your fault Frank. Look at her, you didn’t protect her. This is on you._

The plan was simple- Matt would be the distraction. Frank would get Karen out.  When the plan was as solidified as it could be, Frank excused himself. Matt followed him to the door.

“We’ll get her back, Frank.”

Frank nodded and he shut the door.There was sincerity in Matt's voice. Sincerity that Frank didn’t feel he deserved. 

 Frank loaded up on gear and weapons at one of his stashes nearby. The sun was setting, a beautiful pink sky painted with streaks of red. He’d get her back. Get her safe. After that? Hell after that he didn’t know. Red was right, if she died, it was on him.


	10. Lost and found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 I finished it today and just figured "what the hell I'll just post it"

Frank was on the roof across from the industrial garage. There were a couple Russians standing guard- easy targets. Frank glanced at his watch, 1950. Each minute was killing him. There were a few bodies and a wall between him and Karen. He waited and watched.

At 1957, Matt appeared on the roof of the garage. 

“Cutting it close Red.” Frank muttered.

He made his way through the shadows and into the building through the roof entrance. There were no gunshots or screams. Frank made his way down, ready to tear apart anyone who stood in his way.

* * *

After the recording, Dex brought a washcloth, ice, and a few waters. Karen refused to beg, but her eyes darted to the water bottles. Dex knelt down next to her and opened one of the bottles, tipping it so Karen was able to drink. When she had her fill. He started wiping off the dried blood.

Her voice was still hoarse, “What’s the point?”

“Of what?” His eyes were trained on the task before him.

“Cleaning me up- you said you’re just going to kill me in the end.”

Dex shrugged and pressed the ice against her swollen eye. She hissed at the contact of the cold bag to her sensitive skin.

Karen laughed and it hurt, “You have no  _fucking_  clue how to be a person, do you?”

Dex set the ice down and stared at her, “That’s not a very nice thing to say is it Karen?”

“Not a very nice thing to kidnap and beat someone, is it  _Dex?”_ Karen sneered. She didn’t care. She just didn’t care anymore. She was done. Dex threw down the blood stained washcloth and stood. Karen could see the anger...maybe even hurt...radiating off of him. 

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the sound of a door slamming shut. Dex glanced at the direction of the sound and back down to Karen.

“Time to serve your purpose,Karen.”

He grabbed her and pressed a gun against her temple. He turned them to face the hallway.

All in black, Matt Murdock emerged from the shadows.

“Karen?”

“I’m okay.” 

“Well- If this isn’t a nice reunion.” Dex grinned. He took a step back as Matt took one forward. Karen winced as the movement dug his arm against her side.

“Do you recognize me without the mask?”

“Yeah.” Matt said as he approached cautiously, “You’re the asshole that killed Father Lanthom.”

“Oh the priest?!” Dex’s tone turned deadpan. “That’s right, he got in my way didn’t he?"

Matt shook his head, his hands raised, “Just let her go. You have me, just let her go.”

Dex ignored him, "You know, I had a good thing going for me. For the first time in my life I felt  _right_. And you took that away.”

“Fisk took that away you asshole. He killed Julie,” hissed Karen.

“Karen...” Matt called out in a tone of warning.

“That’s right Karen- listen to Daredevil here,” Dex mocked.

Matt took a hesitant step forward, “I did that. So take me and let her go.”

* * *

Frank loved a good silencer. He took out the two guards at the entrance and made his way into the garage. He rarely used them, didn’t need to. Subtlety wasn’t really his thing. Tonight however, subtlety mattered. He crept in, taking out two more Russians in the main hall. Frank walked cautiously. There was an open entry way that lead into the garage and he pressed himself against the wall. He saw Matt approaching the man with the gun pointed at Karen.

Frank set up to take the shot. _One shot, one kill._ The mantra rang through his mind and his grip wavered. It would be a close shot, any movement and there was a chance that he'd hit Karen.

He needed to get the gun out of the man’s hand.

Matt took another step, he was close to them now. Karen was tense, her eyes wide, her breathing controlled.

“Stop there.”

The man extended his arm out, pointing the gun at Matt. That was what Frank had been waiting for.

A shot rang through the building and the man’s gun spun and clattered to the ground. Karen elbowed the man hard and took off in Frank’s direction. Matt sprang into action.It didn’t take long for the man to recover and they were evenly matched. Suddenly his girl was in front of him. She glanced back at Matt. 

“Karen, go.” He spit the words out. God he wanted to look at her, to feel her pulse, to hold her, but he didn’t take his eyes off the shot.

“Frank, you have to help him. Pointdexter, he shouldn’t be alive. Something isn’t right.” Karen wheezed.

“I will. Go. The cops are out there. I’ll find you after.”

Karen nodded. She staggered around the corner and Frank sighed with relief when he heard the door shut behind her. He followed Dex's movements. Frank could see Red was getting tired. The man’s fists packed quite the punch. Blood was spilling out of Matt’s mouth.

Frank was about to take the shot when a baton hit his gun, causing it to fall out of his hands and spin away from him.

“Motherfucker.”

The man grinned and gave Matt a kick in the stomach and he fell to the ground. Then he turned to Frank.

“C’mon.” Frank muttered.

Dex sprinted towards him and Frank pulled out the 9mm he had in tucked in the back of his pants. He aimed and before he could shoot, another shot rang out. Then two more.

The man fell, all three shots hitting him square in the chest. Frank glanced behind him. Karen slowly approached, the gun she held still drawn.

“Christ, Karen. I had him. I told you to go.”

Karen didn't stop staring at the man on the ground, “And I changed my mind.”

Frank sighed and knelt next to him, feeling for a pulse.

He stood and pointed his gun at the man’s head.

“Frank.”

He glanced over at Karen. Her lip was cut, her cheeks bruised and her left eye swollen shut. She looked broken, but her voice was calm.

“Don’t. You need to take Matt and go. The cops are coming and you don’t need to be here." Karen placed a hand over his arm and looked him in the eyes, "I got one of the guns from the dead Russians and came back to save Daredevil. Daredevil left before they came in. That’s the story okay. The Punisher wasn’t here."

Frank was breathing hard, “He hurt you. I can’t walk away from this. He deserves to die.”

Karen’s gaze was fierce, “And maybe he will. In prison or bleeding out here. I’m asking you not to. This was my shot. Maybe I needed to be the one to do this.”

Frank shook his head.

“Yes, Frank I did. Now go. They’ll make me get checked out and I’ll be home in a day or two. Please Frank.”

“Goddammit, Karen.”

“I know. Sucks to be told to leave doesn’t it.”

He stared at her, her gun still trained on the bleeding man. A smirk played on her lips. Frank struggled to find words. She found them for him.

“It’s not a goodbye, Frank.”

He nodded and forced himself to walk over to Matt. He lifted him over his shoulder and Matt groaned. Frank picked up his gun near the entrance and found his way out without coming in contact with the cops.

The last time he looked over his shoulder, he saw SWAT entering the building.

* * *

SWAT came in with guns drawn. She didn’t put the gun down till they told her to drop it. She held her hands up and stayed put as they approached Dex and felt for a pulse.

“We got a pulse. Secure the area, then get him out.”

“Karen Page!” She turned to see Brett Mahoney approaching her in a Kevlar best. She smiled and her lip started to bleed.

He knelt beside her, “Where’s Daredevil?”

“Gone. He saved me.” 

“I didn’t think Daredevil used guns?” Brett said.

“He didn’t, I did.”

Brett glanced at her with an unreadable expression, “Right- I can see that here. Now I’m talking about the two Russian’s in the front who have a shot to the head each.”

Karen paled, “I don’t- I don’t know about that.”

Brett smiled tightly, “I know Karen. Maybe it was just one vigilante helping another.”

“Maybe," murmured Karen.

 Brett shook his head and held out a hand, “C’mon let’s get you to the ambulance. I’ll take your statement after you get checked out.”

They took her to Metro General. Foggy met her there and she had tears in her eyes when he gently hugged her. He held her hand when she got her IV, not that a needle in the arm bothered her too much, but she appreciated his presence.

Brett came in and got her statement. He asked questions here and there to clarify, but it wasn’t an interrogation. Karen appreciated that. He was a good man trying to do the impossible. He left her with his card and wished her well.

“Brett,” she called out, “Is he dead? Pointdexter?”

Brett paused in the doorway out of her room, “No, he’s in the OR right now. Once he stabilizes, he’ll go to county jail and await trial.”

Karen nodded.

“Don’t worry, Karen. It will be a pretty easy conviction.”

“Sure” she gave a small smile and with that he left.

Foggy glanced at the door, “He should know by now never to say that.”

 Karen smiled and squeezed his hand.

“How’s Matt?”

“Awake- in pain- but awake. I made sure about that before I left to come see you.”

 “Good. Thank you, Foggy. For everything.” Karen smiled again and the tears started to fall. It had been a brutal couple of days. She had held it together for as long as she could. Foggy cradled her against his chest . He left a couple of hours later and she slept. She left the hospital two days later, hydrated and medicated. They wanted to see her back when her swelling to her eye went down, but the initial X-ray showed no broken bones aside from the ribs.

Foggy drove her home and she walked into her apartment with a happy sigh. Frank sat on the couch waiting.

“Honey, I’m home,” Karen joked as she slipped out of her dirty flats.

Frank didn't say a word. Karen had prepared herself for this conversation, but now that it was here- it felt like she was sitting for a test she was doomed to fail.

She walked in wearing an extra pair of OR scrubs that the nurses gave her since her clothes were ruined beyond repair.

Karen sat down next to Frank and he looked at her like he was trying to memorize her face.

It scared her.

“I know what you’re going to say.” She said quietly.

He exhaled slowly. She continued, “And I’m going to listen, but what I want more than anything in the world is a bath and to wash my hair.”

 That broke his stony exterior, but the smile she saw was sad.

“Okay.” Frank whispered and he softly kissed her cheek. She stood, holding in a groan. Karen knew he saw it, he saw everything.

She held out her hand and he hesitated,

“Help me?” She asked tentatively.

Frank took her hand and let her lead him to the bathroom. He helped her get out of the scrubs, at the sight of each dark bruise, he traced his fingers over them. Karen closed her eyes and sighed. She slipped out of her underwear as he ran the tub. She rested a hand on his shoulder as she stepped into the warm water and slowly lowered herself down.

Karen hummed in appreciation and smiled. Frank took a plastic cup from under the sink cupboard and started to wet her hair, silently combing out the tangles with his fingers.

He took note of every bruise. Every cut. His fingers shook. Karen felt it.

She broke the silence first.

“You shot him.” 

He froze, struggling to find his voice for a moment.

“Who?”

Karen glanced up at him, “The man who did this. The Russian you must have run into in the hallway closest to where you found me.”

Frank bristled, “His death was too quick then.”

Karen shook her head, “I’m okay Frank.”

He broke,“You call this okay!? Fucking beaten black and blue!? That okay with you, Karen!”

Frank sat back against the bathroom wall, “Christ.”

Karen mirrored him, head resting against the tile, listening to him ramble angrily on.

“Goddammit Karen- didn’t I tell you this would happen!?” His voice rose, “didn't I tell you that you would get hurt!?”

He sank back. She spoke so quietly that he had to lean forward to hear her.

“And didn’t I tell you that I would be okay? Bruises fade and ribs heal, Frank.”

 Frank glowered at her.

“You want to be mad at me, fine! Be mad at me. But save the self-blame for a time when it’s your own damn fault. Once again Frank, this had nothing to do with you. You didn’t bring this into my life.”

He looked at her like she was crazy, “And you think that makes this okay? You could have died Karen! I couldn’t protect you. I told you before I can’t lose you too!”

“You didn’t.”

Frank stared at her and she grabbed his hand placing his palm against her cheek.

“Not this time,” He whispered, drawing his hand back. He swallowed, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this again.” Frank stood and Karen watched in horror as he walked out the bathroom door.

“Hey!” She yelled. He didn’t turn around. “Goddamn you Frank.” She muttered to herself as she slowly pulled herself up with a pained groan. That made him pause which gave her enough time to swipe her towel and catch up with him.

“You don’t get to leave just because you’re scared you asshole!”

He turned around to see her hair dripping wet, eyes full of fury, with a towel wrapped around her bruised body. She took a step towards him and he stood his ground.

“If you leave, I will follow you. I don’t care where you go. I will find you. You know I have the friends that can do it. Hell, I bet Lieberman would even be willing to help. So get your goddamn ass back to the bathroom and help me wash my hair!”

Frank stared at her in wonder. He wanted to laugh- Maria wasn’t the only one to bring the pain. Karen Page was cruel in her own way. She was making him eat his own words. 

 P _eople that can hurt you, the ones that can really hurt you, are the ones that are close enough to do it....You sit here and you're all confused about this thing, but you have it. You have everything. So hold on to it. Use two hands and never let go_

“Yes Ma’am.”

Karen looked shocked that her outburst worked, she blinked and then found her composure.

“Good.”

She turned her back and exhaled the breath she’d been holding when she heard him follow behind her.

Frank washed her hair and gently toweled it dry for her. He gathered her up in a towel into her arms and placed her on the bed. Karen never knew she how much she loved her bed till this moment.

As she wrapped the covers around her she watched him undress.

“I meant what I said Frank. I will hunt you down. I swear to God.”

He leaned down and kissed her. She rose to meet him, arms wrapping around his neck. She broke the kiss with a whimper from the pain of the stretch.

“Easy, baby.” Frank said lowly, he laid down next to her. “I believe you, Karen. I just... it’s hard not to run. After everything”

She rolled slowly over to face him.

“I know, Frank. That’s okay. I’m pretty good at finding people you know?”

Frank smiled, “Oh yeah? I've heard that about you.”

Karen laid her head down on his chest, “Thanks for coming to save me with Matt.”

“It’s the only time I’ll work with him.”

Karen laughed. She stared up at the ceiling, “You know Frank- we’ve been through a hell of a lot together. I think ... I think after everything, we’ll be okay. If we can get through all that we have, we can make it.”

Frank nodded, “I never thought-I never thought after Maria that I’d find someone. I just figured- killing...that was it. And then you walked in, you helped me remember, you-“ he smiled to himself as the memories flooded back, “You almost shot me and you- even after I thought I killed those women. God Karen-,” his voice was raw, his eyes full of devotion, “You still cared.”

Frank brushed away a stray tear that ran down Karen’s cheek.

“I always will.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

Karen smiled sleepily, “Maybe that’s what it’s all about Frank- it’s not about what we deserve. It’s about second chances.”

He kissed her softly and watched her as she slowly drifted to sleep, safe in his arms. This, right here, this was true surrender. 

This was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the love<3 and for reading!


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